“They used to hold official ostracisms in ancient Greece,” Serena said evenly. “Every year, the assembly voted on whether or not they needed one. If things were going badly, or if the crops were dying, or if someone was causing trouble, people would vote yes. Then they’d hold a meeting in the Agora. Every citizen would carve a name into a rock or a piece of pottery, and put it in a pile, and whoever got the most votes was exiled for ten years. Sometimes people need a scapegoat. One person to get sacrificed for the good of the group.” Her face was blank, as if she were reporting a list of figures. “If we did it now,” she said, “I wonder who would win?”

She moved toward the edge of the rock palm. There was a small boulder there. She climbed up on it and lifted a foot, like a dancer.

“Nothing has changed,” Luke said, his eyes on her raised foot. “I still want to help you. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“See, Serena,” Janet said. “Your plan worked after all. What do you care what I do in my spare time?”

Then I couldn’t help myself. “He can’t do it,” I said, from the back. “He never could. He told me he doesn’t know how.” I didn’t know whether Serena already knew this or not. I still don’t know. She might have invented the memory of Luke’s levitation to manipulate us. Or she might have wanted it so badly, imagined it so much, that slowly, slowly, over the motherless years, she began to believe it was true.

“I want you to know that I hate you,” Serena said. I assumed she was talking to Luke, but it was hard to tell. “Everything I may have said or done to the contrary was a lie. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need you anymore.” She looked over the edge. She spread her arms wide. She turned her back to us. The threat was obvious.

Luke caught my eye. The question on his face was plain: Will she do it?

Would she?

I would personally never kill myself, she had said, weeks ago. I’m telling you that now. Even then, she had known it would come to this. The grand finale. Smoke, mirrors. Coupled resonant wireless power transfer. I was never going to let you jump. The boy, the bee. Had this been her plan all along? She had wanted us to be here for this. She had known I would follow Janet; she had known Laurel would follow me. She had set this up, clever girl. But I didn’t understand my role. She had forgotten to feed me my lines.